


Whispers and Explosions

by CrazyM, Tigole Bitties (CrazyM)



Series: Birdmoms [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angela is a chronic kisser, Cunnilingus, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Fareeha is loud, Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, Married Couple, Non-Graphic Smut, Orgasm, Revenge Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, bottom!Pharah, its just me trying something, pls be easy on me OK, relax it isn't as depraved as you think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-03 22:23:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21186956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyM/pseuds/CrazyM, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyM/pseuds/Tigole%20Bitties
Summary: She wants to speak, but Angela's hand closes around the top button on her shirt and with one smooth, powerful movement, the shirt parts, revealing skin and a no-nonsense black bra, the buttons clattering to the ground."Wh-what are you doing?!" Fareeha squeaks, going even redder."You." Angela replies, running her hands over her wife's midriff."B-but Aisha's sleeping right there!" Fareeha protests in the same squeaky voice, pointing to the door of their daughter's bedroom."We'll be okay if you keep it down." Angela says gently, now pressing kisses to her jaw."But that's impossible!"





	Whispers and Explosions

**Author's Note:**

> Tigole Bitties writes the smut, Not the cinnamon roll called CrazyM
> 
> *CrazyM's muffled screams in the background*

"When will _mutti_ come back?" Aisha asks, her speech slurred by the yawn. Fareeha is carrying her daughter in her arms, with Aisha's head resting on Fareeha's shoulder. Fareeha is walking around the living room in a slow cadence, bobbing a little to put her daughter to sleep. 

"_Mutti_ will be back in a little while, _Ya Amar._" Fareeha says gently, walking around, trying to calm her daughter into slumber. "She needs to give medicine."

Fareeha leaves out the details that Angela had been rushed into surgery right as she was clocking out. A soldier had walked into a landmine, and the result was gruesome to say the least. Last time She had heard from her wife, Angela was going into surgery, and the patient had just been sedated. It had been a good part of four hours since the last news, which was well past Aisha's bedtime. She had allowed the child to watch an extra movie, but nothing more because she was positive Angela would kill her. She slows down when she senses Aisha's breathing deepen, and her vise-like grip on her mother's shirt slacken somewhat. Fareeha tilts her head backwards to check. Her daughter was out cold. She stalks to Aisha's bedroom, and sets her down on her bed, covering her with the duvet. It was a little thicker than what was acceptable, but with the changing weather, she wanted to take no chances with her daughter. Fareeha kisses Aisha on the forehead, admiring her curled tiny hands and her brown hair, and loses track of time for a little while. She could watch over her daughter like this all night, if sleep didn't come in her way.

As Fareeha gently closes the door behind her, Angela enters the house. She hangs her jacket on the hook behind the main door and then sets her bag to the side, and then takes the jacket off the hook and discards it into the hamper. Fareeha senses a little jitter in Angela's movements, in the way the woman reties her hair into her signature ponytail.

"Do you need a drink?" Fareeha asks.

"I need a shower." Angela says with a groan. "That surgery went on forever. Can you join me?"

"Of course, do you need a shampoo?" Fareeha says, closing the distance between them and massaging Angela's shoulders.

"That sounds very relaxing." Angela says. They strip and get into the shower, with Angela sitting down and Fareeha shampooing her wife's luscious, golden hair, massaging her way along.

"Did the surgery go well?"

"Yeah, it did. But we weren't able to save a leg." Angela says matter-of-factly, cleaning herself with soap, scrubbing the sterile smell of the surgery table off her. Fareeha smiles at the change in Angela's attitude. There used to be a time her wife used to tie herself in knots for mistakes she didn't make. It was in the start of their marriage, when Angela would cry, cry that she could have saved people if she was a little earlier. These days, she saves as much as she can, and saves a little bit of her conscience too. These days, she took it all in her stride, taking solace in the fact that she did all she could.

"I am sure you did everything in your power, Ya Rouhi." Fareeha tells her, placing a palm on her wife's shoulder. Angela's hand meets her. "You are one of the best doctors I have ever known, and that soldier is lucky you were watching over him. You have no idea how proud I feel to call you my wife sometime."

Fareeha senses a little bit of residual tension leave Angela's shoulders, like this was the approval she needed, the final verdict on her efforts. "I needed that. Thank you, Liebling."

They wash up and change into warm, fresh clothes, settling on the sofa to have dinner. Fareeha had waited for Angela, and now, with Angela relaxed and comfortable, there was no restrictions on the pace they took. They could now eat at a leisurely pace and talk.

"How was your day? Did Aisha give you trouble?" Angela asks, popping a morsel into her mouth.

"Aisha can never give me trouble, Ya rouhi." Fareeha replies. "She did watch an extra movie because she was desperate to see you before you slept, but I decided she needed to sleep or it would ruin tomorrow..."

Angela's heart flutters when her wife says those words. The fondness behind those words, the care and thoughtfulness behind her actions, and how deeply she loved both of them. She loses track of Fareeha's speech soon, noticing her lips moving, her soft lip-

Angela blinks. Fareeha is quick to catch this. "Are you tired?"

"No, I was just..." Angela trails off, finding the seam of the sofa an object of immense interest suddenly. Her own plate was empty, and Fareeha had just finished hers. She takes the cutlery away, giving Angela an understanding smile, and Angela admires her wife's bottom as she quickly washes the dishes. How long had it been since the last time? Angela doesn't even remember. She does feel like it was time, considering this sudden rush of lust had caught her off guard. She looks behind her to check the door to Aisha's room. It was secured.

When Fareeha comes back out to the living room, she is wrestled into the nearest wall, and before she can even gasp at this sudden movement, Angela's lips meet hers. The kiss is fervent to say the least. When they break off, Fareeha is breathing furiously, her cheeks colored red. Angela had her firmly by the waist, and judging by the way they were practically melding into each other, this was the reason Angela was spacing out. She wants to speak, but Angela's hand closes around the top button on her shirt and with one smooth, powerful movement, the shirt parts, revealing skin and a no-nonsense black bra, the buttons clattering to the ground.

"Wh-what are you doing?!" Fareeha squeaks, going even redder.

"You." Angela replies, running her hands over her wife's midriff.

"B-but Aisha's sleeping right there!" Fareeha protests in the same squeaky voice, pointing to the door of their daughter's bedroom.

"We'll be okay if you keep it down." Angela says gently, now pressing kisses to her jaw.

"But that's impossible!" 

Angela giggles, sensing her wife's legs weakening at this display of affection. She hooks the insides of Fareeha's knees around her hip, and lifts her off the wall. Fareeha grabs Angela's shoulders, but has no time to react when Angela claims her mouth, taking her to their bedroom, arms firmly bracing her back. She yelps when Angela puts her down on the bed. Her wide eyes are asking a question.

"I thought you'd get used to it." Angela says, chuckling 

"You're a doctor!" 

"I used to be a field medic for a bunch of trigger happy madmen too, _liebling_. Have you any idea how many times I've had to carry those two idiots Morrison and Reyes to safety?" Angela replies, pulling Fareeha's sweatpants off her, not bothering with the shirt, because it gave her plenty of access anyway. Angela admires the woman under her, with her toned belly, her strong legs, her beaded hair, her bright eyes and her flustered face. Angela descends into a kiss, softer, sweeter and much more tender, and her wife responds by looping her arms around her neck. It had been a discovery, during these passionate times, that Fareeha was much more geared toward receiving and Angela derived much more pleasure from giving.

But soon, Fareeha was getting impatient, and had begun grinding against her wife. Angela moves her hips in sync, but in the opposite direction, not having had enough of Fareeha's lips. They keep going like this for a few moments, after which both of them conclude their remaining layers of clothing were slowly becoming more and more of a hindrance. Angela takes care of the remaining items of clothing, shedding only those layers which were absolutely necessary, still leaving Fareeha's useless shirt on. It was rare for Fareeha to see her wife so impatient, being the methodical doctor. Angela rises and looks at her once again, now her skin in full display. Its like the first time, every single time. The ridges of muscle on her belly, or how the iliac furrow felt under her thumbs.

"_Mein gott_. You look so beautiful." Angela says, her voice soft. Fareeha turns her head to the side, blushing and then closing her eyes, a sheepish smile stretching across her lips. Being complimented like this, by someone who's lost for English words to describe how beautiful she was? That could make her blush anytime. It made it even better that her wife still found her this beautiful, even after years of marriage. Angela's lips make contact with the skin of her neck, making her hiss when she moves from one spot to the other with a scrape of teeth. She feels Angela's arms looping around her back, bracing her head as she pressed a line of kisses, first the jaw, then the neck, then the union of the neck and the shoulder, then the collarbone, and then her breast.

"Angela-" Fareeha moans, but her voice is caught in her throat as Angela flicks her tongue-"f-fuck Angela-you're-you feel so good."

Angela smiles into her skin, moving on to the other breast. Fareeha makes unintelligible noises of pleasure, which gets louder and louder as her wife progresses. Angela has to stop for a moment when Fareeha practically shouts after an experimental nibble. Angela looks at her with a fond, reprimanding look on her face, and Fareeha meets her eye sheepishly.

"I-I'm sorry, alright?"

Angela gives her wife another smile. "You don't need to apologize for being so beautiful." she says, and her heart flutters when another sheepish smile stretches across her wife's lips. "Do you want me to take it slow?"

"I'll try to keep it down." Fareeha says sheepishly, and Angela goes back down, after a small tut.

The return of stimulation was a very welcome relief, and Fareeha releases the breath she didn't realize she was holding. Angela was masterful with her inputs and it was making her writhe in pleasure. She begins moaning once again, getting louder progressively, remembering about Aisha sleeping, and then reducing to soft moans again. Angela goes on until Fareeha feels raw, and very impatient. Angela comes up to give Fareeha another kiss. They share eye contact after breaking off, Fareeha looking very needy.

"_Ya Rouhi_, please-" She tries to say but her voice dies in her throat when Angela descends once again. There was something about Fareeha's lips that her wife never seemed to get enough of, and she never asked why because she was sure Angela wouldn't be able to tell her. Fareeha didn't mind it at all, because she herself loved how her wife's lips felt against her own. They break off for air. "please don't make me wait any longer." She pleads.

"Anything for you, _Mein schatz_." Angela says fondly, stealing another kiss before making her way down and positioning herself between Fareeha's legs, grabbing either thigh and pressing her lips against the skin of her inner thigh, alternating from side to side, warming her wife up, getting her ready, Fareeha's knees frame her, as if beckoning her. "Are you ready?" she asks anyway. A little verbal approval never hurt anyone. Fareeha nods, but its more a spasm than anything else. Angela offers her a hand, and Fareeha takes it, welcoming the comforting gesture. She feels a tug on her hand, and rises to meet her wife's lips. Fareeha places her palm on Angela's face after they break off, and their eyes meet. They don't need to speak to communicate their love, their trust on each other.

"I'm ready." Fareeha says.

She moves her hands, placing them over the biggest muscle in Fareeha's body, and feels the tension in them when she flexes involuntarily. Mein gott, she's strong. She continues her work, feeling her wife relax, open up, making these noises that were neither moans nor anything that can be named. It sounds guttural, from the depths of her throat. It sounds animalistic to an extent. Angela rises from her position to look at her wife, who was breathing heavily, her cheeks blooming and her eyes closed. She kisses her once again, feeling the perfect softness of her lips. Fareeha reciprocates in kind, and for a few moments the world seems to dissolve. Only things that remain are her wife's lips, her tongue and her warmth.

"Did you like that?" Angela asks. Fareeha nods, not trusting her voice enough to use it. "I'm sorry if I'm kissing you too much, I just can-"

Angela wants to say more, to try and explain why she craves her wife's lips so often whenever they make love, but Fareeha doesn't let her. She simply pulls her into a kiss, prohibiting her from talking, wanting her words less, her actions more.

"Don't apologize for being so beautiful." Fareeha says breathlessly, repeating her wife's own words to her. It was Angela's turn to blush. Fareeha raises her hand and tucks a stray golden lock behind her ear, then pulling her into a kiss. Angela tries to maneuver her hands between the weight of their heaving bodies, and then seeks out her wife's center. Fareeha makes a noise that would have been loud enough to wake Aisha, if they weren't kissing. Angela breaks off and giggles.

"Keep it down!" Angela half-teases her. 

"I'm trying!" Fareeha hisses. "But please don't stop."

Angela heeds, descending to join her fingers, using her tongue for additional stimulation. Fareeha loosens a little more, and Angela responds by going deeper, running her tongue over the bundle of nerves. She can feel her wife tensing, maybe to keep herself quiet, but to her, it was just a simple matter of applying her vast knowledge of anatomy. She changes the angle of her fingers and curls, and finds the spot. She then applies pressure, setting a rhythm gradually getting faster, eager to see her wife unmade, unfurling, radiant, beautiful.

"A-Angela-" Fareeha gasps, her breathing heavy-"I-I can't hold on, I-I'm gonna-"

_Come for me_. Angela pleads, but she doesn't need to say it, because her wife heeds the silent request.

Fareeha's face changes like she's realized, and then her eyes close, her teeth grit and she tenses into her wife's mouth. A massive scream begins forming at the base of her throat, but Angela soon pulls her into the deepest kiss she has ever been in, their bodies almost melding into each other, their lips fitting each other perfectly. Fareeha lets go, paying no heed for a moment to the world, as she trembles in pleasure, her skin on fire, her legs shaking and her mind blank, full of static. She screams into her wife's mouth until her throat is raw. She lets herself go limp, and Angela's arms are there to hold her. 

Angela watches her wife descend from her high, satisfaction filling her heart. She admires her rising and falling chest, her flushed face, her unfocused eyes, and her hoarse breaths.

"I love you." Fareeha breathes out. "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou."

_"Ich liebe dich auch, mein schatz."_ Angela says, which feels more fitting for this situation, more intimate to her. The arousal between her legs is at its peak, but strangely, her body doesn't feel compelled to chase the orgasm. Seeing her wife like this was satisfying. It was all she wanted. all she needed. She crawls and lies beside her, her palm on Fareeha's belly, which was radiating heat. Lots of it. Fareeha spends a few minutes to catch her breath, and regain the synchronization between her and her body, and then realizes Angela was lying beside her. 

"_Ya Rouhi_, what about you? Let me finish you." she says, placing her hand between Angela's legs, cupping her palm around the source of heat. Angela hisses at the pressure, but she still feels no obligation from her body toward pleasure.

"Its alright, _liebling._" Angela says. "I don't need it anymore." she says, and regrets it the instant the words leave her mouth, as a mixture of worry and sadness flashes across her wife's face, clearly visible even through the red cheeks.

"Why?" Fareeha asks.

"Its just that...I felt satisfied once I saw you come, as if I had come with you in that moment. I am wet, admitted, but I don't feel like you need to finish me." She says, not thinking about whether she should say it out loud or not. They had vowed for full transparency at the altar. Nothing would change that. "Also, I'm tuckered out now. I don't think I would survive sex." 

The couple giggles at this, but the conversation stays with Fareeha, stays with her when they spoon each other, Angela as the smaller spoon. It stays with her until she falls asleep.

*

Fareeha wakes up first, like she always does. The sun outside has just begun to get stronger. She then props herself on her elbows looks at Angela, who stirs, most probably from her wife's movements. Her eyes flutter open and she blinks a few times, and then turns her head to look at Fareeha. "Morning." She says sleepily, nestling deeper into Fareeha.

"Morning." Fareeha replies. "Did you sleep well?"

Angela nods. "What about you?"

"I slept well too. I had to, after what you did to me."

Angela smiles with satisfaction at that compliment. And then she feels her wife's rough palm fondle with her breast, sending shocks of pleasure through the nerves. She involuntarily jerks into the touch, her breath hitching for a moment. Angela remembers that while Aisha was asleep yesterday, there was no chance in hell she wouldn't be awake soon.

"F-Fareeha-" she breathes out while her wife massaged her-"Aisha will be awake soon."

Fareeha pauses for a moment, and then Angela feels her wife's other hand snake from under her and make its way to her crotch. She nearly jumps when the rough skin of her wife's fingers brushes over the sensitive area, while stroking her inner thigh. She is held safely in place by strong, muscular arms, which gives her free rein to move without risking falling off the bed. She reaches behind her and places her palm over her wife's cheek. Fareeha nestles her head in the space where Angela's neck and shoulder meet. Angela remembers her apprehensions once again.

"_Mein schatz_, our daughter will wake up soon." She tells her wife once again, but Fareeha has no intention of backing down. Angela feels goosebumps erupt all over her skin when she feels Fareeha's lips millimeters away from her ear.

"We'll be okay if you keep it down." Fareeha whispers, sending shivers down her wife's spine. Angela bites her lower lip as her words are thrown back at her for a second time.

"_Mein gott,_ I hate you sometimes." Angela hisses through her teeth. She moans softly when Fareeha begins massaging her, setting a rhythm, using one hand to tend to her breast, and the other between her legs, but not where she wants it the most, teasing. She moves her hips in response to this movement.

"Easy, _Ya Rouhi._" Fareeha says gently, sending another wave of shivers down her spine. "I'll get there. I just want you to be ready for it."

"I _am_ ready for it." Angela grits out. She lets out a frustrated moan when Fareeha's fingers stray close, just to check, adding to the frustration she felt at her wife's innocent tone. "I'm the doctor! I know!" She gasps.

Fareeha giggles. "keep it down!" she repeats in the half teasing voice and it practically drives Angela mad.

"What kind of a twisted revenge is this?" Angela asks, begging slipping into her voice. "Are you mad that I didn't let you finish me last night?"

"That is partly the reason, yes. But its also because its so fun to see you like this. Reminds me how madly I'm in love with you." Fareeha says, whispering it into her wife's ear. "For others, you're the eye of horus, the angel of mercy, but for me, you are an adorable wife, a mother with a heart of gold and a passionate lover. I love to make you laugh, I love to make you smile, and I love your tiny little quirks: the way you say the W as V, the way you snort when you laugh hard, and the way you are being right now. I love you so much, _Ya Rouhi._"

This calms a little bit of Angela's frustration, and makes her head clear up a little, to process what her wife just said, and it fills her heart with warmth, also distracting her enough to not realize that Fareeha had stopped teasing around her thighs, and was inside her, working her open.

"I love you too,_ Mein schatz._" Angela replies, and then moans when she feels Fareeha's fingers, moving her hips to meet her halfway. "Would you mind if I helped you?"

"By all means, please do." Fareeha responds, and the air between them has changed. Its a lot more tender, a lot more intimate, a lot more passionate than the playful teasing it was earlier. Angela uses one hand to massage her other breast, and the other drifts between her legs, helping her wife, relieving the tension that had built up, and was almost painful at this point. She massages the bundle of nerve endings, running the pads of fingers over the area in a rhythmic circle, with just the perfect amount of pressure, working in tandem with Fareeha's fingers moving in and out of her.

"Ooh, this feels good." Angela coos, still moving her hips, pacing the two of them, keeping the inputs in sync. It was a team effort, and she was loving the fact that Fareeha was responding to her, letting her dictate the pace. "_Mein gott_, yes yes yes!" 

Fareeha can feel her wife's body tensing, her hips moving in tighter and tighter paths. The insides of her thighs tighten, and she can feel Angela clamping, sucking, pulling her in. Fareeha plunges as deep as she can, and curls her fingers to press upon Angela's trigger, the spot she had shown her during their passionate times, which she had committed to memory, and could find on command.

The final input sends Angela over the edge, and she disintegrates in her wife's arms, who holds her firmly. Fareeha's fingers are still inside her, working her through the orgasm. She turns her head to the side to bury her face into the pillow, because she didn't trust herself to not scream. Her entire body tenses, pleasure crackling through her body, sending aftershocks through her nerve endings. Fareeha is whispering something into her ear, probably to ease her through the orgasm, but all she can hear is the blood roaring in her ears. It feels like a million lightning bolts, white hot, and electric. She recovers from her high, completely drained, her legs damn near useless. Her lungs are fighting for air, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Half her face is still buried in the pillow, but she doesn't have enough in her to change her position.

What happens next, though, freezes her. The couple hears bangs outside the door. 

"Coming!" Fareeha calls out, pauses for a moment, and snickers at the double entendre. She presses a kiss into her wife's golden locks, and conceals her with the covers. She quickly puts on the undergarments, replaces the shirt and practically jumps into a pair of sweatpants, making a quick stop to clean her hands. She opens the door, and Aisha is standing in front of her, rubbing her eyes.

"Good morning, mama." She says.

"Good morning, _Ya amar._" Fareeha replies, and watches her daughter peek into the room.

_"Mutti!"_ Aisha cheers, but Fareeha quickly quiets her, getting down on her knees to get level with Aisha. Her hands cover most of Aisha's upper arms.

"Mutti came late yesterday, and she is tired. Don't disturb her." Fareeha says gently. "Did you brush your teeth?"

Aisha shakes her head, looking down on the floor, but stealing glances at Fareeha's face, trying to gauge how angry her mother was. Fareeha decides she doesn't want to reprimand her child, especially when she was being honest.

"Go and brush your teeth, and sit on the sofa. We'll tie your hair, and have breakfast." Fareeha instructs, and waits for her daughter to nod in confirmation.

"Mama, Mama! I want to wear the warrior dress today!" Aisha says.

"We talked about this, _Ya amar._ Its for halloween."

"But its so pretty!" Aisha says, pouting.

"I know, but its a special dress, and its for halloween. If you wear it now, no one will give you candy." Fareeha says, watching her daughter's eyes widen. "Do you still want to wear it?"

Aisha shakes her head fervently, the apparent threat to her beloved candies making her comply. Fareeha stands up and then turns her daughter around, giving her a gentle push. "Come on, lets go! You are getting late for school!"

Aisha scampers off to brush, and Fareeha makes her way to her wife, kneeling by the side of the bed. Angela has murder in her eyes.

"That was close." Fareeha says. Angela says nothing, electing to look at Fareeha with a disapproving scowl. Fareeha giggles at this and presses a kiss to her forehead. "Take your time, _Ya Rouhi_. I'll take care of Aisha. Its the least you deserve."

Angela wasn't angry, not one bit, because she was too busy plotting what she was about to do to her wife after Aisha's gone to school.

No one would hear her screaming then.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried, Okay?!
> 
> Also Fareeha tough bottom bb is my headcanon now.
> 
> Also forgive my limited vocabulary because apparently google translate doesn't like to tell me sexy words in either swiss or arabic.
> 
> I love writing these two as wives, but I am terrified of the concept of marriage. I'd never bind someone to such a massive bundle of mistakes and unrealized potential
> 
> *CrazyM's muffled screams in the background*
> 
> Oh shut the fuck up!


End file.
